


Ineffable Husbands Oneshots

by 1AbbyNewth5



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Angel/Demon Relationship, Asexual Relationship, Children, Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), Concerts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fat Shaming, Freddie Mercury - Freeform, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Kinda, Love Letters, M/M, Noah's Ark, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Self-Hatred, Sleepiness, Song: Love Of My Life (Queen), Wings molting, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-23 15:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1AbbyNewth5/pseuds/1AbbyNewth5
Summary: Alternate title: Crowley stares at Aziraphale as a love song plays for a few minutes.





	1. Wakey Wakey, Mister Crowley

Aziraphale doesn’t need sleep. He has enough energy in his body to stay awake for as long as he wants, and doesn’t abuse that power to do so.

Crowley needs sleep. Badly. He does have the same amount of energy in his body as much as Aziraphale does, but he uses it up to almost an unhealthy level.

 ~~Speeding~~ Driving his Bently through London, wasting his vocal chords on screaming at his plants, using up his miracles for the smallest of things, anything, really. It didn’t really look like it was bothering him, though. Maybe because he sleeps on his wall and it’s too uncomfortable for him.

Either way, it sure was bothering Aziraphale that Crowley constantly just looks so tired all the time. The angel occasionally wondered how in the world the demon was able to function somewhat properly every day and night. At least Aziraphale knows how and when to rest if he needs to, but he doesn’t necessarily sleep. But Crowley… Aziraphale isn’t so sure what he does to rest, if he does rest at all.

The two shared a plan where one would go over to the other’s place for the night, once, each and every week. Crowley has been the one going over to his angel’s, mostly. Aziraphale didn’t want to press any questions as to why Crowley has been doing it so much… but dammit, he was worried and curious. And there was one particular day where Crowley was extra nonchalant and Aziraphale was extra worried. He knew that something was wrong with Crowley the moment he opened the door to see him at his front steps… again.

The demon’s fingers were fiddling on his sides, and his hair looked very ruffled. And even though he had his sunglasses on, Aziraphale could definitely spot an extra eye bag or two underneath. Both of them exchanged worried, tired, fake smiles.

“Morning, angel,” Crowley’s voice was more gruff and mumbly than all the other times he’s visited Aziraphale. The angel stepped away, letting Crowley in his bookshop. His feet were almost dragging across the floor. Aziraphale shut the door and turned his sign to “We’re closed!” as he anxiously followed Crowley around the store. “It’s the afternoon, Crowley. The clock just struck 2:30.”

“Right,” the demon replied, almost bumping into one of the bookshelves. “Ope- pardon me.”

Aziraphale’s brows drew together lightly. Crowley adjusted his sunglasses down his nose as he turned over to him. “What’s that look for?”

“Oh, n- nothing,” Aziraphale’s fingers stretched out and fidgeted as he spoke. “Are you, uh… Are you alright today, Crowley?”

“Of course I am, Aziraphale,” Crowley swaggered, trying to raise his voice. He glanced down to a small table that holds a tilting pile of books. Two of his fingers gently tapped multiple times on the top. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh,” Aziraphale was trying to be careful with his words. He didn’t want to look obvious that he was worrying about Crowley’s well-being of sleep. “It’s just that you’ve seemed a little bit more, um… fatigue… lately.”

The demon raised an eyebrow, almost judgingly. Aziraphale pursed his lips, expecting Crowley to say something like his usual smartass snarkiness. “’m fine, angel.”

Aziraphale didn’t believe him, but went on with it anyway. Crowley plopped on Aziraphale’s couch, with a leg hanging out. “Anyway, how’ve you been? Last week feels like ages ago.”

Aziraphale softly chuckled at that little comment, sitting down on his chair in front of Crowley. “I’ve been alright. I’m catching up on a new book series, so that’s… nice.”

Crowley almost rolled his eyes at the last word, but shrugged it off. “What is it?”

The angel grinned slowly, chuckling again. “It’s the book that Adam wrote and gave to me. The one about the pirate that’s a detective? Very creative boy, Adam is. He said he’s continuing it as a series the last time he visited!”

Crowley was nodding along to Aziraphale’s words. It didn’t look like he was paying much attention like usual, but it was nice of him to have some kind of physical response anyway.

“Neat,” Crowley tried to sound as awake and supportive over Adam’s imagination as best as he could, and Aziraphale could sense it clear as day. “That’s _real_ neat. A bit rude of him not to give _me_ a copy though.”

“You said you don’t read.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Oops.

“I could keep it on a shelf or something, at least,” Crowley added, clearing his throat. “Anyway. What’re we doing today? Bus ride? Ritz? Picnic? Feeding ducks? Queen in the Bently?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips again, knowing that just by looking at Crowley, he looks and acts far too tired to do any of those things he just suggested. Especially when he’s out in the sun in such dark clothes, even though Aziraphale is fairly certain that Crowley really likes the heat and a demon won’t die of heat stroke. And Crowley doesn’t eat much, when of course he doesn’t need to. But still…

“I was actually thinking that we could, um,” Aziraphale looked around his surroundings, trying to think of something for he and Crowley to do that doesn’t give him too much. As soon as Aziraphale looked back at Crowley to suggest something small and simple, he almost jumped out of his seat. Huge black wings were suddenly sprawled out from Crowley’s back. Multiple messy feathers were poking out. Some feathers were already landing on the floor. Aziraphale recoiled a hand, and slowly stood up from his chair. “Crowley, your uh… your wings…”

“Mmm?” Crowley blinked slowly, looking up to his wings and feathers all over the place. “Oh! Didn’t know I was gonna be molting again today. Heh.”

“You… want me to help?” Aziraphale asked gently. Crowley shook his head, fiddling with some loose feathers. “Nah, it’ll be fine. This has been happening a lot lately.”

 _Maybe because you’re TIRED AS ALL HELL,_ Aziraphale wanted to say, but he let the demon finish with “These things will go away later.”

Aziraphale sighed lightly, sitting back down in his chair. “Alright, then.”

The two sat in silence for a good few minutes. Aziraphale’s thumbs were fidgeting. Crowley’s head was nodding multiple times as he forced himself to stay awake. The angel was looking at him worriedly the entire time they were quiet. Crowley’s sunglasses were closed up on his chest, as he tried to force his poor snake eyes open. It looked like he was going to keep that up all day. Aziraphale sighed sadly, and had a small idea to snap his fingers.

The time on his clock changed, and there was no daylight outside. Crowley’s eyes flashed open, peeking out the nearest window he could find. “Did the day just go by super quickly, or is that just me?”

It didn’t look like Crowley even heard his angel’s miracle snap.

Aziraphale shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe both.”

Crowley said nothing, closing his eyes. Aziraphale wants his demon to get as much sleep as possible, so miracling time to skip to night was a start.

“Ah,” he looked over at his clock (9:36 PM) and got up from his chair again. “Crowley, I’ll be… right back. I have to fix something in my room.”

Crowley’s eyes peeped open. “You want me to help?”

“No-!” the angel replied quickly, then toned his voice down a bit. “I- no. I’ll be fine, thank you. I’ll shout for you if I need you.”

Crowley nodded again, wings twitching. “‘right.”

As soon as Aziraphale left the room, Crowley sighed, and felt his wings vanish. No molted off feathers in sight. Crowley’s eyes were shut after a few seconds, and had vivid memories and images of fire all over the place. “SOMEBODY KILLED MY BEST FRIEND! _BASTARDS! ALL OF YOU!_ ”

The demon flinched harshly and pried his eyes open by staring up at the ceiling. He’s failing, but he’d hate to admit it.

Aziraphale gently shuts his door behind him, and slapped his hand on the center of his head. “Ugh, he’s _miserable,_ I can just feel it.”

He rubbed his face as he stared at his bed. The mattress is only used up on one side (which is basically where Aziraphale reads in the middle of the night), while the rest is still completely stiff. Aziraphale went over to his right desk and turned his lamp on so he could tidy up his comforter blanket for Crowley. He isn’t entirely sure how Crowley sleeps because he uses his wall, but from what he’s obviously known and seen is that Crowley never sleeps, so he would have to see how this would go.

As soon as he finished, Aziraphale sat down on his side of his bed. “Crowley! You can come in if you’d like!”

He immediately heard some shuffling from outside of his room, and the sound of Crowley’s feet dragging across the floor became slightly louder as he came closer. The door opened, and Crowley peaked inside, seeing Aziraphale sitting on his bed with his legs and arms crossed. The demon was a bit confused. “Angel, what’s up?”

Guess Aziraphale didn’t really have a choice but to say what’s been bothering him this entire time. The angel sighed again. “Crowley… you need sleep. A lot of it. It’s been bothering me for a while.”

Crowley had his hands in his pockets. “... Aziraphale, you _do_ know that we don’t really need sleep, right?”

“Just hear me out, please?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I _know_ we don’t need to, but you’ve been using up almost all of your energy for almost everything you do! You need to have some kind of resting mechanism, or an actual bed, or… _some_ thing! I’ve been worried about you for weeks!”

The growing desperation in Aziraphale’s voice almost hurt Crowley, but he tried not to show it. He slowly strolled over to the opposite side of his angel’s bed, staring at the comforter. He sighed, and the two locked eyes for a moment. “I don’t care if you don’t want to, but trust me, you _need_ to sleep. It’s unhealthy for a demon like you to abuse your energy to the point where you’re like this.”

“It’s not because I do a bunch of shit, Aziraphale,” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale blinked. He was already almost blushing for making assumptions. “What? Oh- Well, should I ask what it really is?”

“Bad dreams,” the demon flatly stated. Aziraphale’s eyebrows lifted, and he opened his mouth to say something, but after a quiet pause, “Oh…” only came out.

“I didn’t know that demons could even have bad dreams…” the angel’s voice went quiet, mostly of embarrassment.

“Neither did I until a few months ago,” Crowley said. “They got _real bad_ so I just, y’know…”

Aziraphale’s head shot back up to him. “You mean to tell me you haven’t slept in _months?!_ ”

Crowley inhaled through his teeth, making a small hissing noise. “Yeeeeaaaahhhh…”

Aziraphale’s leg hung at the edge of his bed. “Crowley, why didn’t you tell me sooner?? I should have known so I’d do something to help you!”

“It’s fine, angel-”

“No it’s not! What were the dreams? Did something happen?” Aziraphale stood up and stomped over to Crowley, holding onto his arm.

“Just a bunch of PTSD shit I went through from the Apocalypse that didn’t happen,” Crowley shook Aziraphale’s hands off. “It’s alright now. I’m over it.”

“Then why are you not sleeping?”

“Because I don’t need to-”

“I’m not an idiot, Crowley!”

Crowley flinched. Same sentence from a _long_ time ago, but a much more different inflection and meaning behind it. He let his angel continue. “I want to help you get over these dreams! I’m staying here with you until you go to sleep tonight!”

“It won’t change a thing, Aziraphale.”

“I want to help you anyway. Look, I miracled time to skip just so you could sleep for at least a little bit. Please?”

Does it really matter that it would have to be nighttime to go to sleep? Humans take naps all the time when it’s day. Oh well.

Aziraphale was giving Crowley the puppy begging eyes, but it was unintentional. It wasn’t the usual playful “Help me so I don’t have to do it myself” kind of look, this one was real and desperate.

 _This angel is too selfless,_ Crowley always thought. But he’s too selfless to refuse getting help from.

Crowley sighed, looking at Aziraphale’s bed again. He took his sunglasses off, tossed them on the left desk, and fell face flat on the mattress. Aziraphale heard a defeated muffled “Okay”, and sighed in relief. “Thank you, Crowley.”

“Mmhmmm.” Crowley stuck out a thumb as Aziraphale took off his trench coat and shoes, and sat back down on his bed. “Wouldn’t you be a bit hot dressed in black in bed like that?”

Crowley groaned as he lazily took off his tie, blazer, shoes, and pants, only for Aziraphale to see that he’s still wearing a black tank top, shorts, and socks. Crowley sat on the bed next to him with his legs crossed. “Good enough?”

Aziraphale reached over to his left desk to grab his glasses and Adam’s book. “Good enough.”

“Cool.” Without moving too much, Crowley got himself under the gold comforter. He had his face towards Aziraphale and noticed his adorable, circular, dumb little reading glasses. “You’re an angel, you don’t need glasses to read.”

“I like to think they make me look nifty,” the angel smiled, making Crowley let out a small “Heheheh.”

Aziraphale had his legs covered up and he felt Crowley scoot a bit closer to him as he got himself situated. “Are you going to sleep, Crowley?”

“Maybe.” Crowley’s real answer was “No.”

“Close your eyes, Crowley,” Aziraphale replied, patting the demon’s fluffy, dirty crimson hair. “If anything happens, I’ll be here to help.”

Crowley said nothing. He closes his eyes and actually falls asleep rather quickly. The angel hummed softly, starting to continue reading Adam’s book.

_Everything in the bookshop is burning._

_“_ _Aziraphale, where are you, you idiot, I can’t find you! For God’s- for Satan’s- AGH! For SOMEBODY’S SAKE, WHERE ARE YOU?!_ _”_

_“_ _Crowley!!_ _” Finally, a call for help!_

_“_ _Aziraphale?!_ _”_

_“_ _Crowley, help! I’m burning!!_ _”_

_“_ _I’m coming, angel! Stay where you are!_ _”_

_“_ _Please Crowley, help me! Everything hurts!!_ _”_

_“_ _I know, Aziraphale, I’m coming! Hold on! Gah, angel! Where ARE you?! Shout or something! AZIRAPHALE!_ _”_

_“_ _CROWLEY! HELP! SOMETHING’S AFTER ME!_ _”_

_“_ _WHAT?!_ _”_

_“_ _HURR_ _Y! PLEASE, CRO_ _WLEY!_ _SA_ ** _V_** ** _E ME!!!_** _” The angel’s voice was changing._

_The demon busts open his friend’s bedroom door._

_“_ _AZIRAPHALE! I’M HERE-!_ _”_

_“_ **_Oh Crowley~ You’re a bit too late, aren’t you?_ ** _”_

_Hastur._

_“_ _What-?!_ _”_

_“_ **_Heheheheheheh._ ** _”_

_“_ _What the deuce did you do? Where’s Aziraphale, you bastard??_ _”_

_“_ ** _Where do you think he is?_ ** _” He gestures the fire. The fallen angel almost felt his heart sink. “_ _No- No, you fucking didn’t-_ _”_

_The demon laughs. “_ **_What if I tell you I did?_ ** _”_

_The fallen angel’s heart was doing a number of things. He didn’t like it. Before he knew it, he was launching himself on the demon, punching and screaming. “_ _HOW_ **_COULD_ ** _YOU?! YOU TOOK_ **_EVERYTHING_ ** _FROM ME!!!_ _”_

_The demon was laughing maniacally, and whistled loudly. “_ **_MICHAEL! THE HOLY WATER!_ ** _”_

_“_ _Yes, Mister Hastur~_ _” The archangel was probably wearing a hellfire safe suit._

_The fallen angel wasn’t paying any attention. The last thing he felt was a steaming hot splash on his back, losing his grip on the demon he was wrestling. Black was taking over his vision, and the sounds of fire, crying, and maniacal laughter filled in his ears._

_Then he woke up._

Crowley was sitting in the corner, hiding his face behind his legs, and was yanking at his hair. He was crying harshly, cocooning himself with his black wings, with molted off feathers that were all over the bedroom. A faint, familiar gentle voice was calling his name multiple times, but he couldn’t hear it over the sounds of him crying. And because of his big thick wings blocking anything away that could possibly be a threat to him. When he tried to open his eyes, everything was pitch black. Eventually, a finger or two hesitantly took hold of Crowley’s wings, slowly moving it away to give him some light. The gentle voice became a bit more clear, but Crowley’s crying was still very loud and shaky. Hell, his entire body was trembling.

“...ley? ...owley? Crowley…?”

His name was being repeated so many times, it could almost make him kill something.

“Crowley-?”

“ _WHAT?!_ ” he snapped.

His wings spread out, both hitting the walls with more and more feathers poking out. His eyes were wide and blurred with big tears and his teeth were bared and gritted together. His fingers were pulling out multiple little chunks of hair as they almost looked like the form of claws.

Aziraphale backed away from Crowley with his hands recoiled up to his chest. He almost had small tears in his eyes himself as if he felt he was being helpless. “Crowley, it- it’s just me…”

The angel slowly knelt down to his knees in front of the shivering demon, holding out his hand. Crowley stared at the angel and his hand many times. He didn’t know whether to trust his sense of reality or not after… whatever the hell just happened. Oh, fuck it.

His fingertips shakily reached out to touch the palm of Aziraphale’s hand. It felt very warm. Crowley likes warm. His wings and feathers vanished. He was still trembling like a leaf, and he felt more tears having a race down his cheeks. He couldn’t help but notice a small mess in the room. The angel saw Crowley’s eyes travel around, and back to him again.

“I, uhm…” Aziraphale swallowed a lump in his throat. “I guess this is what happens when a demon has bad dreams… right?”

Ignoring the question, Crowley suddenly leapt onto Aziraphale, crying uncontrollably. The angel’s body froze up almost completely. In a few seconds though, he gained some kind of selfless instinct to gently wrap his arms around Crowley, with his own white wings surrounding and the both of them. A bit the opposite of how they wanted to happen, as Aziraphale was rubbing Crowley’s back and shushing him quietly, that only made the demon cry harder. The two had no idea why. It might be because Crowley never had such real physical comfort? Seems the most possible.

Now, the two had no idea how long they stayed on the floor, but as soon as Crowley stopped crying, he fell right back to sleep, with Aziraphale still holding him. The angel was careful to try not to move around too much, but he eventually gave in, and let himself stay on the floor with Crowley for the rest of the night in case something happened again.

Thankfully, nothing.


	2. Love Of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: Crowley stares at Aziraphale as a love song plays for a few minutes.

The year is 1985, and Crowley just miracled two free tickets for him and Aziraphale to go to the Rock in Rio Festival concert in Brazil. Now, Aziraphale was always a bit picky when it came to rock and roll music, but just by seeing how excited Crowley was about inviting him at this concert, he gave it a chance.

The two sat at a very far distance away from the audience (at the very top of the whole circle thing, facing the stage), but it all was still close enough to be able to see and hear everything. Aziraphale doesn’t do so good with loud crowds of people, so Crowley did him a favor there. They’re both lucky they could fly if they fell off!

Mostly, the whole reason that Crowley wanted to go to the concert is that the band Queen was going to perform, and he did NOT want to miss it. So in returning the favor of the demon finding a good place to sit and watch everything, Aziraphale miracled time to skip right when the Almighty British Band was going to perform. Now, Crowley was hiding his excitement the second he and Aziraphale found their “seats”. But once Aziraphale announced that he would skip time to when Queen would perform later in the concert, Crowley was yanking onto the angel’s arm, grinning like mad. “Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes…!”

So much for hiding his excitement, huh?

Long story short: It was mostly Crowley that had a blast. From what Aziraphale would recall, this is technically Crowley’s 16th time coming to a Queen concert. As much fun as it was to listen to the band’s music, Aziraphale didn’t really like the loudness of the crowd, because he couldn’t hear what the hell the band was singing some of the time (Crowley would sometimes forget to lower his voice because he would sing along VERY excitedly). It all eventually quieted down when it was just the front man and the guitarist on stage, for a very brief, but most beautiful few minutes of Aziraphale’s life.

The guitarist was Brian May, sitting on a stool with an acoustic guitar in his arms. The frontman of the band was Freddie Mercury himself, swiftly strutting across the stage to be next to Brian as he started playing his guitar into the microphone that was set in front of him. The crowd was still cheering and whistling for the two of them, but it wasn’t as wild as it was for now.

As he was listening to the guitar being played, Aziraphale leaned over to Crowley’s ear. “What song is this?”

“‘Love Of My Life’,” Crowley answered, smiling softly. “I think you’re gonna like this one.”

The angel looked off to the audience, and to the stage, where Freddie was standing, front and center. He had his broken off mic stand in one hand, and with the other, he was… conducting? Aziraphale squinted his eyes to try to look at the singer’s movements, as the crowd was suddenly singing without him…

“ _Love of my life, you’ve hurt me,_

_You’ve broken my heart, and now you leave me,_

_Love of my life, can’t you see,_

_Bring it back, bring it back,_

_Don’t take it away from me because-_

_You don’t know what it means to me~_ ”

Aziraphale was slack-jawed and in awe. Such simple movements from Freddie’s free hand and the audience can sing however he wants them to. As both of his hands were up in the air, seconds after that first verse, the crowd was back to cheering, clapping, whistling, you name it. Crowley had a huge smirk on his face, just by looking at Aziraphale’s reaction. The angel looked up at him. “How does he do that…? And… everybody here is Portuguese, how…? Do they understand the words…?”

Crowley shrugged and waved his fingers. “Mercury Magic~”

After such a short guitar break, Freddie is suddenly singing along with his crowd.

“ _Love of my life, don’t leave me,_

 _You’ve stolen my love, you now desert me-_ ”

The singer let the audience continue. The guitar stopped playing.

“ _Love of my life, can’t you see,_

_Bring it back, bring it back,_

_Don’t take it away from me because-_

_You don’t know what it means to me~_ ”

Crowley was looking at Aziraphale this entire time, and noticed that the angel was grinning, still stunned. He let out a laugh and clapped as Freddie thanked the audience in Portuguese, “Obrigado!”

Crowley’s smirk grew wider as he watched Aziraphale’s little reactions. He looked down and noticed that his hands were trying to mimic Freddie’s as he conducted the crowd, singing with them again. The angel was also mumbling along, trying to learn the words.

“ _You will remember, when this is blown over,_

_Everything’s all by the way._

_When I grow older, I will be there at your side to remind you,_

_How I still love you…_ ”

Freddie let the audience finish with, “ _I still love you!_ ”

The frontman teased them with one more little “ _I still love you~_ ” to make them cheer. Aziraphale giggled a bit at that.

Crowley was looking at Aziraphale the entire time as Brian continued a longer solo. His bright orange snake eyes would do the normal human pupils thing; growing wider the more he gets to be looking at someone he loves. Perfect song to look at him with as well. But Crowley was wearing his sunglasses, so Aziraphale wouldn’t notice. And even if Crowley _did_ have his sunglasses off, Aziraphale probably wouldn’t notice either way, because he’d _still_ be so taken aback by how Freddie Mercury would treat his crowd in such a beautiful way.

Aziraphale started chuckling, which broke Crowley’s gaze. He peered down to the audience, and they’re all cheering and chanting, “Brian! Brian! Brian! Brian! Brian!” over and over again as soon as the guitarist was going to finish his last solo of the song. Freddie suddenly returned with a towel draped over his neck, finishing the song with the crowd…

“ _Oh, hurry back, hurry back,_

_Don’t take it away from me because-_

_You don’t know what it means to me._

_Love of my life, love of my life,_

_Ooh, yeah~!_ ”

Crowley was back to staring at Aziraphale again as he and the audience clapped and cheered.

“Alright!” Freddie shouted, proudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Audio of the performance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYW-hWxeNqc
> 
> Video of the performance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gblZ2drKK1M


	3. Think About the Children!!

Besides Aziraphale, there is another thing that Crowley would vow to protect with his entire being; kids. Kids are like little precious minions of chaos and wreaking havoc, and Crowley just _loves_ them. He obviously grew attached and protective to some throughout history, starting with him sneaking almost every villager child on Noah’s Ark… which caused Aziraphale to have a fit.

“You can’t just _do_ that, Crawly!” he fussed. “You’re messing with the Great Plan!”

“Oh, I’m going against the Great Plan now,” the demon smirked, while cradling a toddler. A girl, who looked about nine or ten, was trying to braid his hair. “God can’t kill kids, and that’s final. Ack-! What’d I say about being gentle?”

“Sorry!” the girl giggled, tugging on a curly lock of his hair.

“You _do_ know that actions lead to consequences, right, Crawly?” Aziraphale asked. Crawly ignored him, leaning over to casually pull a boy from the bottom of his shirt, away from a glassless window to the outside of the Ark. “Don’t wanna sink out there, do you?”

“No, mister crawling man,” the boy replied. “I was counting the water bullets outside!”

“Really now,” Crawly grinned, playing along. “How many so far?”

“A bajillion!” the boy threw his arms in the air, smiling.

Aziraphale wanted to kick Crawly off of the boat, but he’d probably feel awful about it afterwards, so he sat down next to the demon, who was crowded by excited children. The angel didn’t say much, knowing that Crawly would just give him some kind of sarcastic or smartass remark about children being drowned. Surprisingly, Aziraphale could feel little flashes off… affection, from Crawly. Especially when he and the children were all grouped up sleeping, like a bundle of kittens. Very protective over sweet and innocent children for a demon, huh? Once the Ark eventually reached land, Aziraphale watched Crawly sneak the children off. He said something about Noah having to make plans for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was meant to be MUCH longer, but then I got super lazy from out of nowhere. Enjoy this shortie anyway! We need more fics of Crowley with kids.


	4. The Oddball of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aziraphale has some pretty bad self-esteem issues, and he gets real antsy over a simple compliment from Crowley.
> 
> And also in which that Aziraphale needs more angst fics.

Aziraphale didn’t know it by how quiet he was, but Crowley wasn’t asleep. His eyes were open, staring up at the angel’s face as he was reading a small prophecy book. Crowley was smiling slightly.

“Heh,” he chuckles, breaking the angel’s concentration on the book. “Crowley dear, aren’t you supposed to be asleep by now? We both know you still have to work on that.”

“I know,” Crowley mumbles. “I just noticed your eyes.”

“My eyes? Why?”

Crowley adjusted himself on his elbow and hovered a finger near Aziraphale’s face. “One is a different color. One’s blue, one’s hazel… or is that green? Funny how I never noticed that before.”

The angel had a small smile forming on his face, blushing. “Funny how you were the _first_ to notice that in a long while. I thought you already knew!”

“Must have been my sunglasses,” Crowley replied. “Darkening my vision and mix-matching colors and such.”

Well, I mean… darkening your vision is how sunglasses work, so… was there anything to say to that? Probably not. So Aziraphale cleared his throat, and hummed in response. Crowley sensed some kind of discomfort all of the sudden. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale looked back at the demon, looking like he was trying to distract himself with something that wasn’t his book. He shook his head, as soon as he noticed a mirror leaning on the wall across the bedroom. “N- No, you’re alright, Crowley. I was just thinking… about things.”

Crowley pouted, not getting the answer that he wanted. Aziraphale pursed his lips and sighed. “Alright, if I say what’s wrong, you won’t go all ‘I’ll kill that person for you’, will you?”

Crowley’s eyebrow lilted. “Depends on what that person did to you.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Aziraphale mumbled, fingers intertwining and fiddling. “I- Well… I kind of expected someone… ‘up there’ to notice my eyes so they’d… be rude about it. Calling me imperfect, defective, that kind of thing.”

“Why? I don’t think so,” Crowley said. “I think your eyes are neat to look at.”

Aziraphale tried to hide another smile, but couldn’t fight it. “Oh, of course _you_ would. But you’re not an angel… anymore…?”

Should ‘anymore’ be put in a sentence when Crowley hasn’t been an angel for over six thousand years? The two shrugged, and Aziraphale continued. “So, you get to be honest about how you think of me in a ni- _good_ way. But the angels up there, they… they’re not so nice as I always thought they’d be. Especially you-know-who.”

Crowley frowned, asking, “Should I say his name so we’d actually know who we’re talking about?”

“Starts with a G-”

“Okay, we both know who we’re talking about. The dick one. Sweet.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You-know-who would always point out things to me of how I act and look, and in words that are very judgmental, and oppressive, and…”

His eyes trailed back over to the mirror across the room and remembered three words exactly; “ _Lose the gut._ ”

Aziraphale held his breath for a moment, trying to look at his hands while ignoring his stomach, which is securely wrapped around by Crowley’s arm. “...he’s just rude, and insults me, but… subtly, I suppose…? He uses his words in a very odd way, but you know what he means. I don’t get compliments a lot, so… hearing you saying that my eyes are… _neat…_ makes me a bit happy.”

“A _bit_ happy?” Crowley asked, grinning. The angel playfully tapped his hand. “You know what I mean. I get flattered easily. It feels very nice.”

Crowley smirked, pretending he didn’t hear ‘nice’ by replacing it with some other positive word about feeling good. “Everyone’s very passive aggressive up there, huh?”

“The more I realized it, yes,” Aziraphale tried to smile. “You should know, you’ve fallen from there.”

“Mmm,” Crowley shrugged. “I don’t remember a _whole_ lot when I was lounging around in Heaven. Just me making a bunch of stars, asking questions, angels being pissed at me for asking questions…”

Aziraphale mumbled something under his breath [1], making Crowley’s ear twitch. The angel looked like he was staring at the mirror again. Crowley sat himself up to see Aziraphale’s face. It just looked like his face was very blank, spacing out… something that Aziraphale does very very very _very_ rarely. The demon waved his hand in front of him, making him blink a few times. “Ah-! What-? Wh- Oh. Sorry, Crowley.”

“You alright?” Crowley asked, voice going soft. “You said something.”

Aziraphale bit his lip. “Oh- it’s- it’s nothing. No need to worry, love.”

“You’re a bad liar, angel,” Crowley frowned. “I’ve known you for six millennia, I know how your emotions work.”

“Gabriel told me to ‘lose my gut’,” Aziraphale sped his way through that sentence, fingers shaking. Crowley went quiet. “He _basically_ told me to stop eating and look more, I don’t know… _fit?_ He’s such a- He- Ugh.”

Aziraphale slapped his face with a hand, and Crowley leaned over hold it away. “Hey, hey, hey-”

“I’m sorry, Crowley,” the angel muttered. “You shouldn’t be hearing me say these things. You’d be angry all night.”

Crowley shook his head. “No, no, not angry. Just… _severely negative_ towards the people that don’t like you for no reason.”

“Oh, they have a reason alright,” Aziraphale replied, with an upset tone in his voice. It looked like he wasn’t even trying to force a smile anymore. “Many. They say I think too much, doomed to fail… a pathetic excuse.”

“Angel-” Crowley didn’t like the growing raspiness in Aziraphale’s voice at all.

“They _hate_ me up there.” Aziraphale gritted his teeth, looking up at his ceiling. “I always thought that how _I_ am was how angels should be, but… I’m not. Not at all.”

“Aziraphale, stop that,” Crowley was sitting on his knees, right next to Aziraphale. He was noticing small waterworks in his different colored eyes. “You _are_ how angels should be. It’s _them_ who are pathetic.”

Aziraphale turned his head to the demon, seconds after wiping his eyes. “What did they say to you when you were in my body, Crowley?”

Crowley blinked. His pupils dilated for a moment before shifting back to normal narrow slits. “What?”

“You barely said anything that was happening in Heaven while I told you _every_ thing about Hell and your trial,” Aziraphale said. “What happened up there?”

Crowley’s lips were parted, but it’s not like his jaw was hanging. The usual speechless pouted lip that Crowley has always had when he’s trying to think of something to say. He didn’t want to talk about his angel’s ~~execution~~ trial, but…

“ _Just shut your stupid mouth, and die already._ ”

When Aziraphale wants to know something, he _really_ wants to know it.

The demon cleared his throat, straightening his back. “Well… they didn’t send rude notes, that’s for sure. You remember the little paper of Agnes Nutter’s last prophecy? The ‘playing with fyre’ one?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale nodded. Crowley took a deep breath. “Yeah… guess what happened.”

Crowley watched Aziraphale’s meticulous little faces he’s made while trying to guess what has happened in Heaven. A few minutes of silence has passed. Crowley suddenly felt a sense of dread in the room. Aziraphale’s eyes widened, with his fingers trembling. Bigger tears started working up in his eyes, and his mouth was quivering. “N- No, they- they wouldn’t- they couldn’t…”

Crowley leaned over gently. “Angel?”

(Snap!)

Suddenly, with the blink of an eye, Aziraphale was gone from the bedroom. Crowley flinched back, hearing the front door of the bookshop slam shut with a jingle of the bell. “What the some place…?!”

Crowley miracled his pants, shoes, and blazer back on [2], and quickly went down the spiral stairs of the bookshop, to find that Aziraphale’s coat was gone from the hanger. He exited the bookshop (while miracling the doors locked) to see if Aziraphale was in the Bentley, but it was empty. Oh well. Crowley got himself inside the car to look for his angel anyway.

“ _Here we are, born to be kings,_

_We’re the princes of the universe._

_Here we belong, fighting to survive,_

_In a world with the darkest powers…_ [3]”

“It’s too late at night for him to be having comfort food at the Ritz…” Crowley mumbled as every restaurant he passed by was closed with the lights inside turned completely off. Very few people were out tonight, but obviously knowing Aziraphale and having such out of place bright clothes, he would be pretty easy to spot. A few long minutes pass, and Crowley hasn’t caught him walking around town. He was about to get a bit worried, until he remembered that St. James’s Park still exists.

Crowley parked his car as close to the park as possible and got out, immediately figuring out just where Aziraphale was. All it had to take a simple small walk across the pavement to find him.

The two have never been to St. James’s Park at night, but it looks and feels _much_ more peaceful than it does during the daytime. That was not important to acknowledge, but I thought it’d be nice to set the mood anyway.

After skipping along some pebbles, Crowley finally spotted a bench with a huge feathery white figure sitting on it.

 _Yep, that’s him._ Crowley took a deep breath through his nose and sighed, until he heard muffled sobbing from the figure. Crowley groaned, but in a heart broken sense. As he got closer to the bench, it was obviously Aziraphale, wrapping himself with his wings to cry without being seen. The weeping from the angel wearily stopped, once Crowley touched the armrest with the tips of his fingers. Aziraphale’s right wing slowly moved away from his face, along with both of his hands that were vigorously rubbing his eyes. The two caught each others’ faces, and Crowley waved with his fingers. Aziraphale’s wing flinched back to the same place where it was hiding him. For body language with wings, this is “Leave me alone, please.” But of course, Aziraphale didn’t any anything, other than a few subconscious little whimpers.

Crowley quietly sat himself down next to the angel anyway, patient if it’s going to take a while for Aziraphale to talk. The demon didn’t sprawl himself all over the bench like how he usually does. He’s keeping a respectable distance, and is actually _sitting_ for once. A faint sentence caught Crowley’s ear after a moment. He looked down at Aziraphale, hoping he’d repeat what he just said. He tried to keep his voice as soft and gentle as possible, trying not to sound invasive in the slightest. “What was that, love?”

A long sigh that turned into a sob came from Aziraphale, and his wing shifted away from his face again.

“Am I really _that_ awful…??”

Crowley swore that he could literally feel his heart break, both at the question, and by looking at how sad and scared Aziraphale was. The angel shakily sat himself up with his wings having no sense of bench control, so they vanished by themselves. Crowley held his breath through his nose, wanting to prepare himself to handle whatever it is that Aziraphale might say to belittle himself, even though none of the belittlement is true in Crowley’s eyes.

“Am I really _that_ much of a useless, _fat little annoyance_ to everybody up in Heaven that they just wanted to _KILL me??_ ”

Crowley tried to reach out his hand to comfort Aziraphale, but he was shaking and moving his hands so much as he spoke that he just couldn’t keep himself still. “Did Gabriel hate me _THAT much?!_ Did he want to watch my body get _DESTROYED?!_ ”

Crowley swallowed a lump in his throat, knowing that Aziraphale wants an answer. “Unfortunately.”

More tears were welling up in Aziraphale’s heterochromia eyes, reminding Crowley that this whole thing has happened all because he _complimented them…_ As Aziraphale said though, he’s not used to such simple compliments as calling different colored eyes ‘neat’, so you can’t really blame him for being like this.

Aziraphale’s whole body is trembling at this point, as if he’s going to discorporate himself out of such hate of ‘up there’. He never knew he _could_ hate.

“Of course,” his voice was breaking, forcing himself to grin. “Of- fucking- _course_ he’d want to see that…!”

Crowley, _completely_ ignoring the fact that the most innocent thing he met in the world (besides children) just swore in front of him, made his own wings stretch out from his back. Aziraphale was temporarily still and quiet enough for Crowley to pull him in his arms. “Come here, angel.”

“I’m _not_ an angel!” Aziraphale shouted, not even phasing Crowley’s attempt to wrap his wings around them both. “I’m _pathetic!_ A tool! A disgrace! Useless! Defective! I’m _NOT_ AN ANGEL! I’m _not-!_ I’m not…!”

“Shhh, shh, shh…” Just by hearing small shushes and feeling Crowley’s hands gently rub all over his back ( _and_ having better groomed demon wings wrapped around him), Aziraphale had his eyes open wide with a waterfall of tears pouring out of them, and he eventually stops his screaming of self-loathing. His throat felt very hoarse, and thankfully, he didn’t feel any sense of a breakdown coming [4]. Crowley spoke, “No more crying, Aziraphale. You’re alright. Let’s go.”

“I-”

“Shh,” Crowley held onto Aziraphale’s hand, making both of them walk through the park to the Bentley.

The two were completely silent, other than a few sniffles from Aziraphale, and low grumbles while trying to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. Crowley wrapped a wing around Aziraphale’s shoulder, carefully pulling him close. Aziraphale didn’t notice, as he was staring at nothing at this point.

They both eventually got to the car, and Crowley watched Aziraphale cautiously get himself inside on the passenger seat. The demon’s wings disappeared as soon as he got in. They were silent on the way back to the bookshop as well, and as Crowley parked right outside the front door, he saw Aziraphale sleeping.

“Huh,” Crowley mumbled. “That’s rare.”

With the light of the sun hitting his face, Aziraphale’s eyes opened, and flinched, looking around that he’s still in Crowley’s car. The demon was nowhere to be seen, except for in the bookshop. Aziraphale unbuckled his seat belt and was about to get out of the Bentley to go have a talk with him, but a bright yellow paper on the dashboard caught his eye. He slowly shut the passenger door closed, and lifted the paper to see if there was anything on it. Apparently, both sides are written down as follows;

“(Wow, it’s been a while since I wrote a letter like this to you, huh? Feel very old all of the sudden. But that’s not important right now. Anyway… let’s get this over with.)

Aziraphale -

I guess I could say I’ve learned more about you last night than the whole time we’ve been on Earth together. You never really got that in depth with telling me how you felt about Heaven and Gabriel and everybody else up there. I must have said something wrong to make you feel what you’ve felt last night, and I kinda regret it now, so I’m  really  sorry for that. But I’m glad you told me, because if I ever see Gabriel or any other angel around, I’m gonna pummel them for you. Send them straight to Hell!

I don’t know if that bit was funny, it probably wasn’t.

Yeah, you may be different from all the other angels up there, but I’m different from all the demons down in Hell, so you’re not the only celestial thing that feels out of place.

Here is a thing I just realized; Gabriel might have hated you because you’re different. “Oh, you think and eat too much, you’re gonna fail even though you’re doing a great job, your hands move a lot when you talk and it’s annoying, you need the exercise, I’m better than you because I’m the second-in-command,” all that junk. But I think he hates you for an actual reason now. He’s scared of you now. All because of our swap, Heaven and Hell are afraid of you and me, and what we can do together. We never really belonged in those places, and I think that’s a good thing. That’s why we’re on our own side against the two of them now.

You don’t belong in Heaven anymore, so why should you care about what the other angels think of you now? They’re all a bunch of passive aggressive/passive oppressive (?) cowards who have no idea what I see in you. You are better than all of those angels combined. You know what humans think of angels? They think angels are protective, kind, and loyal. But I can find more and better words, and I’m gonna prove it.

You are the most kind, humble, selfless, thoughtful, silly, loyal, protective, rebellious, and the most bravest angel that I’ve ever met. You are  exactly  how humans perceive and portray angels, but yet, you are the oddball of Heaven. Irony. Just know that all those words that I listed out are how  I  perceive you. You are the angel that the whole world needs more of, and I’m lucky that you’re the only thing I need in the world anyway.

Wow, I wrote on two sides of this whole paper. This got long! Anyway, once you wake up and read this, come in the bookshop and I’ll hug you. We don’t have to talk or anything, we can just hug for a bit. Afterwards, we can do that picnic you told me about back in the 60’s if you’d like.

With six thousand years of love,

\- Crowley”

Getting tears in his eyes and smiling from ear to ear, Aziraphale got out of the Bentley, and hugged Crowley tight for an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (insert Weeping Angels joke here)
> 
> You know what? Since I'm so proud of this one, I'm gonna repost it as its own separate thing so that people don't have to go through chapters to look for it. (even though there are four chapters of this whole thing so far, but shh) I just feel like this one is perfect to be its own thing separated from this. :)
> 
> Also, here are the little footnotes that I've never done before;  
> [1] What Aziraphale mumbled was "Not being good enough for an angel..."
> 
> [2] Crowley didn't bother miracling his sunglasses on, so his eyes are bare throughout this whole thing.
> 
> [3] Song is 'Princes of the Universe' by Queen (because of course it is)
> 
> [4] Crowley miracled Aziraphale to stop crying because he HATES seeing him this upset, and so should you


End file.
